Balance ( poetry )

Where has it gone in this thing called life?
Do we have it and just miss it with all the strife.
Have we become so mundane, we have lost?
Where did it go, along with what cost.

Some lives have become anxious, tasteless.
Some lives have become a continuing saga.
Maybe we have hidden truth with meanness.
Maybe we all have reached bliss, ha ha ha.

I am not sure of the answer of happiness.
I was always told you have to make yours.
I was told life couldn’t be acquired by the helpless.
Only you can deliver and open all the doors.

No one can or will be happy all the time.
Without sadness, we would not notice joy.
Just as good is to evil, speech is to mime.
To be in balance, contentment has become coy.